Criminalists on a Train
by MishkateerBabs
Summary: Stuck on a train to Fargo, Natalia and Ryan investigate the disappearance of small valuables with the help of arson investigators Underwood and Richardson. Between arguing arson experts and the blizzard outside, can the CSIs solve the mystery at hand?
1. Chapter 1

**Rated T for language that is to come. First in a series! Rebooting my entire series, to make it less serious and more fun for me to write. You can see my profile to view the stories I have planned for this reboot. Please R&R! Let me know if you want MORE! :)  
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><p><strong>Chapter One<strong>

Each year, thousands of criminalists flock to Fargo, North Dakota for the annual Evidence Engagement Conference, where forensic technicians and investigators share the latest tips of the trade in regards to their specialization. Others—including detectives, lawyers, and criminalist wannabes come to observe, learn, and drink themselves into a stupor over the three-day duration of the conference which could pass as a frat party.

Early off in the year, presenters receive a letter of appreciative begging that ties them to a promise of national recognition and an upgraded hotel room with a spa package or free golf play. They are then whisked off to Fargo with other attendees and are shoved into a two-bed hotel room that lacks a coffee pot and a hairdryer, but can have an ironing board upon request. The inn has no pool, no spa, and no private golf course. Attendees of the conference have come to refer to it as The Shack.

The only issue with the EE Conference is that it was held on different days in different months every year. The previous year had been late March, and the year before early August during a heat wave. 2012's conference was being held in mid-January, much to the excitement of attendees who had had to work on New Year's Eve and wanted nothing more than to get liquored up and make a fool of themselves. January also meant that presenters had been given eight week's notice to the conference.

DNA Expert and CSI Natalia Boa Vista was oblivious to the lies of a spa package and Febreze-scented single hotel room, as she had never participated in the EE Conference before. To her it was a break from getting kidnapped and solving cases, and she had spent the past eight weeks fantasizing about presenting to her peers and getting a pedicure. Fargo wasn't the ideal vacation location, but it would suffice. All she had to do was put up with fellow CSI Ryan Wolfe, and Asshole.

Asshole, as he was _affectionately_called by all members of law enforcement and the entirety of the Miami-Dade fire department, was an arson investigator who found humour in pushing people's buttons and was famous for his excruciating stubbornness. Asshole also went by Underwood, his surname. No one knew his first name, and no one bothered to ask. "Asshole" worked well enough. He stood at about six feet tall, had broad shoulders, chestnut hair and emerald-coloured eyes. He had a killer smile, tattoos on his arms, and an adorable six year old daughter named Grace whose mother had taken herself out of the picture soon after the birth of her child, leaving a shocked Underwood with a baby that he never knew was even conceived. One DNA test later, Grace went home with her father. Women only drooled long enough to hear words leave his mouth, and then proceeded to run for the hills.

For this, Natalia was thankful that Ryan was tagging along. He was possibly close to Asshole on the stubbornness scale, and the two had had a few bad run-ins, although none of them had lead to full-out fist fights. Underwood and Delko were another story; there was a long history of fist fights and disagreements and name-calling. Only those that had been around those twelve-or-so years ago when the spite first started knew what the intense hatred revolved around and none of them would spill the beans, leaving Natalia and the other "newcomers" in the dark.

The morning of the twelfth, Asshole had strolled into the crime lab with a duffel bag slung over his shoulder and a grin on his face. Ryan had greeted him with a fist bump, as if they had been life-long pals. This allowed for Natalia to breathe a sigh of relief. Ryan and Asshole had never been to the conference, and were going to observe rather than present. Ryan was going because he had some holiday days left, and Asshole because he needed to "learn to understand what the hell they were saying in their reports". The trio had then shuttled to the airport with bags in tow, and had boarded a plane to Chicago where they were to meet up with other attendees and take another plane to Fargo. However, it was the second week of January, and the weather had decided not to cooperate.

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><p>"What do you mean there won't be any flights? There's ten of us, and more on the way that need to get to Fargo!" Ryan leaned on the desk of an airport information booth, his comrades seated behind him on uncomfortable metal seats.<p>

The lady at the desk looked agitated herself. "Sir, the entire region of the country is in a blizzard. I'm sorry. Unfortunately, I can't control the weather."

They had landed in Chicago only to find that Father Winter had invaded the northern states in record time, the snow beginning to fall just half an hour before they had touched down. Within forty minutes all flights to surrounding states had been cancelled.

"Good job, Wolfe. I think she likes you." Asshole shot a dark smile up to the male CSI from behind a newspaper.

"Go to hell," Ryan said, sitting next to him.

Natalia was on the other side of Ryan, as far as she could get away from Asshole as possible. She had already warned the other female attendees of his women-scaring tactics. "Did you ever think that maybe everyone else in the airport has yelled at her for something that's not her fault?"

Wolfe made a face, and slumped back in the seat. "Now what?"

One of the other attendees, a short dark-haired woman who looked like she was barely out of high school, scurried over to the group from the doors of the airport. "I just called the conference organizer. We're supposed to take our plane tickets to the Amtrak, and they will accept them and take us to Fargo."

"So we're going by _train_?" Ryan voiced the dumb-struck expressions that relayed on the faces of the group.

"Mhm. Everyone grab their things. We got to get to the Amtrak as quickly as possible." The young woman ushered them out of their seats. "There's already another group of people waiting there for us, and the train leaves just after two."

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><p>The group of conference attendees arrived at Union Station at ten to two, frozen to the bone and in a rush to find their departure waiting area. The young woman who they had learned was named Emily wasted no time asking for directions to their terminal, and led the tired group to their destination. They made it just in time for boarding.<p>

"So when do we get to Fargo?" Ryan asked as they shoved their way onto the train.

"Somewhere around three in the morning." Natalia struggled to pull her bag up the steps that led onto the railcar. "The snow may hinder that."

Once they were inside the railcar, the group dispersed. As they didn't have assigned seats—or tickets in general, they could choose to sit wherever they wanted. Asshole pushed past the two CSIs and made his way to the front of the section of train. When he got to the door, he turned back to them. "Well, come on! Follow the leader!"

Ryan and Natalia looked to each other, shrugged, and followed after him.

Asshole led them through another railcar, and then another, and then another. He was skimming the aisles, ignoring numerous empty seats.

"Asshole, just pick a section already!" Ryan snapped, catching the attention of the other passengers who proceeded to glare at him.

The arson investigator gave Ryan the finger, and continued on his merry way through the railcars. When they reached the section of train that was third in line from the head car, Asshole stopped abruptly, nearly causing Natalia and Ryan to run into him. Asshole seemed to smile to himself, and said, "Perfect."

Ryan and Natalia shook their heads, and watched as Asshole sauntered over to a section of seats that was occupied by a lone auburn-haired woman. He seated himself across from her, and dropped his bag at his feet. The two CSIs quietly stood before the section of seats, and Ryan nudged Natalia.

Natalia cleared her throat to catch the woman's attention. "Excuse me? Not to intrude, but do you mind if we sit here?" She then glared across to Asshole. "Please forgive my co-worker here, as he lacks people skills."

After what seemed like an eternity, the woman lifted her eyes to Asshole, who had buried his face back behind a newspaper. Her face twitched, and her gaze shifted to the two CSIs. "Go right ahead, as asshole here has already made himself company."

Ryan pushed Natalia, who stood with her mouth agape at the woman's response, towards the seat next to the redhead and seated himself next to Asshole. "That's funny. That's what we call him back in Miami."

The woman focused intently on Asshole's face. "I know. I was the one that _gave_ him the nickname."


	2. Chapter 2

**Two chapters in less than a week? I think that's a new record. Haven't written a whole chapter in over three years. Cripes. Anyway, thanks to my good friend tarheelveteran for the review! Hopefully I catch some more interest with the reveal of the mysterious redheaded woman introduced in the last chapter. You'll notice that I say "colour". I'm Canadian. So sue me. Although I do refuse to say "Centre". You don't say it "sen-tray", so why spell it that way? Anyway. Enjoy!**

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><p><strong>Chapter Two<strong>

Natalia and Ryan shared a brief look, turned their heads to Asshole, and then back to the woman. From what Natalia could tell by sitting next to her, the auburn hair did not come from a box of dye and her eyes were a colour that had seemed to get caught in between navy blue and grass green. She had a tan that stood out against the reflection of the snow, and Natalia could see the letters of a tattoo poking out from the half rolled-up sleeves of her black leather jacket. And she looked extremely pissed off.

"You look like you were somewhere warm," said Natalia, testing the waters.

The woman's eyes never left Asshole's face. "I was in Puerto Rico for the past three weeks."

"Vacation?"

"I have a house there."

Ryan leaned forward, placing his right arm onto Asshole's armrest. "So you got money then, eh?"

Natalia sent her male counterpart a why-the-hell-did-you-say-that look.

The redhead seemed to shrug the question off, like she'd been asked it on numerous occasions. "Inheritance."

"Must be nice," Asshole finally spoke, his eyes never leaving the page.

"Fuck off."

Wide-eyed, Natalia looked to Ryan for support; the woman seated next to her had a big, nasty attitude hidden beneath her petite frame.

"We're from the crime lab," Ryan said. "CSIs Ryan Wolfe and Natalia Boa Vista."

"That's nice."

Ryan gave a defeated shrug and leaned back in his seat. Asshole let out a huff, threw the paper at Ryan's face and gestured to the woman.

"This is Renae Richardson. Arson Investigator." Asshole met the woman's eyes. "As you probably guessed, we trained and worked together, and she's the bitch who gave me the name you all have adopted for me."

Renae smirked and fingered him. "I could have given you a much worse name, so be grateful."

"Like what? Douche-Lord?"

"No, that's the Fed's name. You know that."

Asshole slapped his forehead and made a sarcastic "ah-ha" face. "I _knew_ I had heard that name before!"

Natalia felt herself inching closer to the window. Her eyes met Ryan's, and the same thought went through both of their minds: They were supposed to survive a thirteen hour train ride with these two? Ryan buried his head behind the newspaper that Asshole had thrown at him, and Natalia quietly pulled her iPod from her purse. Renae and Asshole were deadlocked in a staring contest that radiated tension, anger and resentment.

The train lurched forward suddenly, and they slowly began to exit the station. Wind pelted the snow against the windows, turning it into slush and creating a fog on the inside. Natalia kept flicking her eyes to the two arson investigators, who continued to stare at each other. She'd never heard of Renae, considering she had worked in Miami for what seemed like awhile. However, the pronunciation of her last name stumped Natalia; it sounded familiar. "Rye-card-son" wasn't a typical last name, and it especially stood out to the CSI for some reason.

A light bulb went off in the Natalia's head, and she muted her iPod. "Are you Lara's sister?"

Renae broke the trance with Asshole, and eyed the other woman. "Yes. She's my older sister."

"So you know the Delko's?" Eric's parents lived across the street from Lara, who was the district attorney. No one quite knew why the DA who drove a Bentley lived in the suburbs in a three-bedroom house with no pool, when she could clearly afford a place on the beachfront and then some.

Asshole made a face, and Renae shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Yes."

Ryan's attention had been caught. "So you know Eric?"

Renae paused, and they could see the wheels turning in her head. After an awkward eternity, she simply replied, "We haven't talked in a long time."

Natalia left it at that, as Renae's eyes portrayed a future of one of them getting strangled if they were to press further. Ryan apparently didn't take the cue.

"So you slept with him?"

"Who hasn't?" Renae shrugged, turned to Natalia, and gave her a once-over. "You certainly have."

Natalia didn't know what to say, and Ryan didn't seem to think it was a big deal and went back to reading the newspaper. Asshole was the only one grinding his teeth and looking exceedingly annoyed at the mention of his nemesis. Renae shot him another smile, and he grimaced.

"You're such a pain in the ass," said Asshole.

Renae gave him a kick to the shin. "_I'm_ the one who's supposed to be mad at _you_, Underwood."

His face read "unimpressed" and he crossed his arms. "All I have to say is 'Boston Travelodge' and you're done for."

"That's not fair. I'm the collector of blackmail."

"Ouch. It hurts me that the going-ons that happened there are considered blackmail."

Natalia, sensing another argument, shut off her iPod, shoved it into her purse, and stood from the seat. She then excused herself. "I'm going to go find the washroom."

"Turn left and it's at the end of this car." Renae said, once-again locked in a staring contest with Asshole.

Carefully making her way out of the crowded space, Natalia slipped into the aisle, turned left, and began her trek to the washroom. It was located on the left side of the back of the railcar, stuffed in the corner. She entered the small contraption, locked the door, and dropped her purse onto the counter. When finished her business, she washed and dried her hands, fixed her hair, and opened the door to exit the washroom. On her way out, another passenger bumped into her, apologized, and scurried into the bathroom.

"That was weird," Natalia said to herself, frowning, and returned to her seat.

Renae and Asshole had apparently called a cease-fire and were now preoccupying themselves with books. Thankful for the calm, Natalia shifted into a comfortable position in her seat, and dug through her purse for her iPod.

"Ryan? Did I leave my iPod here?" she asked after about a minute. She had emptied out the bag, and through the makeup items, gum packet and wallet she had found no iPod.

He rustled the paper. "No. Pretty sure you took it with you. You spent five minutes trying to wrap the headphones around it."

"But it's not in my purse."

"Maybe you dropped it."

It was a possibility, so Natalia rose from her seat and retraced her steps to the washroom. It was unoccupied, so she entered it and scanned the floor. No iPod. On her way back down the aisle, she skimmed over people's own electronic devices and attempted to look under their seats without having to crouch. She then sat back down in their seating area.

"Find it?" Ryan asked.

"No, but someone did bump into me on my way leaving the washroom."

Renae craned her neck towards the aisle, giving herself a view of the other passengers. She then said quietly, "Maybe they stole it."

This troubled Natalia, as now she had nothing to block out the imminent arguments that were to come and the noise of the train scraping along the tracks. Most worrisome, was that she hadn't gotten a good look at the person who had bumped into her. It had definitely been a man's voice, but she couldn't pin it to a certain age group other than adult. Natalia then did as Renae had, and viewed the other passengers. Women and men, all different ages, from all different backgrounds, from all different cities. And one of them was potentially a thief.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks again to my friend tarheelverteran for the review, and thanks to princessesmeralda for the story alert! :) I think this is my favorite chapter so far. Hope you enjoy, and please R&R!**

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><p><span>Chapter Three<span>

The train had been moving for an hour, and the thought of a possible thief had the quartet squirming in their seats. Renae had withdrawn a notepad from her backpack and sketched a schematic of the railcar they were in. She had then numbered the seats, and on a separate page wrote information on the passenger that sat in the numbered spot. Natalia was discretely watching over the female arson investigator's shoulder, reading the scribbled data and making mental notes for herself.

When Renae was about halfway through the passengers, she stopped writing and slowly turned to look at Natalia. "I can feel you watching me, you know."

Natalia gave a sheepish smile and recoiled back towards the window. Asshole was obviously on Renae's bad side, and that was a side that Natalia definitely never wanted to be on. Well, did Renae even have a _good_ side? The CSI did not know.

"For fuck's sake, she's just doing her job." Asshole's voice was low and dark, almost like a growl. "Settle the hell down."

Renae glared at Asshole, and then looked at her watch. "When's the last time you ate?"

"None of your goddamned business," Asshole replied.

"Sorry, but you're getting grouchy, and that usually means you need to eat something."

Natalia didn't have to read Asshole's face to feel his annoyance; he was oozing it. However, Asshole relaxed his shoulders, dug into his backpack and pulled out a small device. He then pricked his finger, drawing blood.

Ryan's eyes drifted over to the other man. "You're a diabetic?"

"No, I just like to fucking poke my fingers full of holes and let myself bleed for fun. Of course I'm a fucking diabetic." Asshole glanced down at the reading on the device. "Oh what do you know, my levels are fine. I guess the grouchiness is just an effect of sitting near you, Renae."

Renae shrugged. "Was worth a shot."

The two CSIs shared a look in preparation for all hell to break loose. Much to their relief, Renae and Asshole sunk back into their seats and resumed what they had been doing. Ryan and Natalia both expelled a breath and looked across at the other passengers.

"Do _you_ think somebody stole my iPod?" Natalia asked in a whisper.

"It wouldn't surprise me." Ryan leaned forward on his knees. "There are some pretty shady people on the other side of the aisle."

Natalia followed his gaze to the four people squished into the seats across from them. One man was in his late fifties and had charcoal hair flecked with white. He wore a black Armani suit, and carried a leather briefcase that probably cost as much as the suit. Across from him was a woman of oriental descent who wore a feminized version of the same suit, except it was matched with a pencil skirt and red stilettos. The other two passengers wore suits as well—although theirs' obviously hadn't cost more than two hundred dollars, unlike the fancy-looking laptops sitting on their laps.

"Like, who wears Armani on a train?" Ryan shook his head, looking down at his own clothing, which consisted of a windbreaker, a t-shirt, jeans and converse shoes.

Natalia had thrown on a long-sleeved shirt and comfy pants that morning before leaving for the lab to catch the shuttle to the airport. The two then eyed their arson counterparts. Asshole was in a similar getup to Ryan's, and Renae wore worn-out jeans and a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled up. Definitely not Armani-standards, but certainly train appropriate.

The pair of arson investigators must have sensed eyes on them, as they both turned to view the man in the expensive suit.

"I couldn't afford that suit even without a kid." Asshole scoffed, and redirected his attention to Renae. "You on the other hand..."

She gave him another kick to the shin. "Sorry, stilettos and skirts aren't part of my wardrobe. And expensive or not, I've never seen _you_ in a suit."

"But I've seen you in a dress. Most people can't say that." He nudged Ryan. "Can you imagine her in a dress? Hot as hell."

Renae turned to Natalia. "I swear, the whole Girls are from Venus and Men are from Mars thing isn't a load of shit."

The CSI nodded in agreement. "This is what we get for working in a mostly-male work force."

"Want to get away from these animals and go scope out the railcar behind ours?"

"Sounds like a great idea to me,"

The two stood from their seats, and squeezed into the aisle.

"See, Renae, this is your problem. You don't know how to take a compliment!" Asshole called after them as they walked towards the opposite end of the car.

Renae flipped him the bird, and she disappeared behind the door after Natalia.

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><p>The railcar they stepped onto had a different seating arrangement. The seats all faced in one direction, allowing the two women to view every passenger's face from where they stood. Slowly they made their way down the aisle, taking mental notes on the inhabitants of the seats while trying not to draw attention to themselves. The passengers in this car were mostly women, none of whom looked like they would steal an iPod. But in their line of work, Natalia and Renae knew that looks could be deceiving.<p>

At the back of the railcar they found two empty seats and settled down into them. Renae pulled out her notepad and began to write notes on the passengers. Natalia was trying to not feel uncomfortable around the woman; Renae had just gone from potential threat to chummy pal in a split second, and it made her nervous. Bi-Polar was a possibility. Methodically insane was more likely.

Sighing, Natalia closed her eyes and attempted to recall the faces of the passengers. The first two seats on the left had been occupied by two sleeping teenagers. To their right sat a little old lady who was probably close to a hundred and had her purse taking up the seat beside her. Everyone else was in their mid twenties to late forties, with average hair, average faces, and probably average jobs. Discouraged, Natalia glanced at Renae's notes.

"Anyone stand out to you?"

"Nope."

That was helpful. Renae had gone back to bitch almost as quickly as she had turned into a buddy.

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><p>The men had waited for the women to disappear behind the sliding door before resuming their conversation.<p>

"So," said Ryan, breaking the silence. "You and Renae, eh?"

Asshole snorted. "As if. I can't even put a hand on her shoulder."

"Does this have anything to do with why you and Delko don't get along?"

"As Renae would say, that's none of your business."

"I'll take that as a yes."

Asshole furrowed his brow and jabbed Ryan in the shoulder. "Back off."

"You want to know what I think?" Ryan said, rubbing his arm. "I think you like her. And that you've liked her for a long time. But she was with Eric. And Eric didn't like you liking her. And that's why you two hate each other."

"Wolfe, anyone in Miami could have told you that."

Ryan made a face and crossed his arms. "But I was right, wasn't I?"

"CSI of the Year."

Giving up, Ryan slouched back into his seat, closed his eyes, and listened to the grind of the train on the tracks. He hoped Natalia and Renae would return soon, so Renae and Asshole could continue their bitchfest and keep him the hell out of it. They hadn't even been on the tracks for two hours, and Ryan was already planning how he could possibly kill them. Killing was the easy part, getting the body off the train would be the hard part. And they'd probably fight back. Renae didn't seem like one who gave up too easily, and Asshole wasn't much different. They were like the same person, just with different biological mechanisms.

"I love her,"

Ryan's head snapped up. "What?"

"You heard what I said." Asshole muttered under his breath.

"That's a...strong word."

"Mhm."

"For like, how long?"

"As cliché as it sounds, since the day I first laid eyes on her."

"Have you guys had sex?"

Asshole punched him in the arm again.

"Ow!" Ryan shifted away from Asshole. "What the hell was that for?"

"I'm trying to have a meaningful man-to-man and you're asking if we've had sex!"

The man in the Armani suit gave them an incredulous stare, shook his head, and returned to reading his papers.

Taking the hint, Asshole lowered his voice. "She knows how I feel. She's the problem."

"Are you sure she knows how you feel?" Ryan stayed pressed against the wall of the train in an attempt to protect his already twice-bruised arm.

"Yes, you idiot. She definitely knows. She just—" Asshole cut off as Renae and Natalia re-entered the car.

"What were you talking about?" Renae asked as her and Natalia took their respective seats.

"Man stuff." The two males replied in unison.

Natalia rolled her eyes, but Renae's gaze never left Asshole. She knew what they had been talking about; it was written all over Asshole's face.


	4. Chapter 4

**I still think I like chapter three better, but eh. We get more of Ryan being Ryan in this chapter. And some hilarity. And of course more to the mystery of the missing iPod. Thanks to new fan Sevv for reviewing each of my chapters! :D Hope I don't disappoint. Probably going to plow out chapter five tonight because I have two papers due next week and should probably start them this week****...Also, be warned of more foul language and mature content! :B**

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><p><span>Chapter Four<span>

Ryan couldn't say that he had been shocked to hear such words leave Asshole's mouth; the guy was bound to have a heart in there somewhere, considering he had a young daughter. What had come as a surprise had been the fact that he held feelings for _her_. Renae wasn't exactly the girl you brought home to your mother. Although, Asshole didn't seem like the kind of guy whose mother would even let him back into the house. From what little Ryan had heard from the man next to him, the feelings weren't mutual between the two.

The real thing that blew his mind was that _she_ had been involved with _Eric_ of all people. Unlike Natalia, in his early days at the lab Ryan had heard the whispers of "the girl before all the girls", but he'd never had a name or a face to put to "the girl". Of course, he had no evidence that Renae was "the girl". She could have just been one of the many. But they must have known each other for awhile beforehand, if her sister lived across the street from his parents. Ryan couldn't even see Eric and Renae as friends. Their personalities just clashed.

"If you don't stop staring at me in five seconds, I'm going to kill you."

Ryan hesitated, trying to comprehend how Renae had noticed that he was watching her without even raising an eye. He squared his shoulders and inhaled a shaky breath. "I was just thinking that you're not exactly Eric's type. Not even friend-type."

This resulted in a grunt from Asshole, an eyeroll from Natalia, and a look from Renae that made Ryan realize that his body was probably going to be found in a canal when the snow melted in March.

After what seemed like an eternity to Ryan, the female arson investigator finally blinked and unclenched her fists. "First of all,"

"Here we go with the list," said Asshole, who hunkered lower into his seat in preparation for the coming shitstorm.

Renae kicked him in the shin for the third time. "_First of all_, 'friend-type' isn't a word. Second of all, it's none of your fucking business. Third, you're not very good at pretending not to stare at someone. Fourth, it's none of your fucking business and if it matters that much to you, ask Eric yourself."

Ryan's eyes drifted to the floor. "Is there a fifth?"

Natalia began to plan Ryan's funeral in her head.

Asshole stared at Ryan in horror. "Don't bother running or hiding. She'll find you. And then she'll cut you into tiny pieces. But only after torturing you. And then she'll take those tiny pieces and she will burn them. Then she will dump your ashes into the ocean. And _then_ she'll kill you."

Ryan shrugged. "I'm not afraid of her." He was scared shitless.

"You should be," said Asshole, cowering further into his seat.

The male CSI could see the wheels turning in Renae's head. When she lurched out of her seat, Ryan's life-preserving reflexes kicked in and he closed his eyes and shielded his face with his arms. However, no pain came. No punches, no kicks, no bullets; Renae didn't exactly seem like the kind of girl who fought like, well, a girl. Instead, Renae tore out of her seat, hoisted her small backpack over her shoulder and stormed off towards the railcar that she and Natalia had returned from.

Ryan opened his eyes to Natalia shaking her head.

Asshole had a hand over his face. "Thanks dickhead. That just makes all of our lives more miserable."

"I thought she was going to kill me there. Why the hell did she run?" Ryan straightened himself.

"Because you hurt her feelings, dickhead." Asshole rubbed his temples. "She has those, you know. Ten thousand leagues under the sea in a deep, dark cave that only two men have dared to enter."

Ryan and Natalia slowly looked to the man.

"Did they survive?" asked Natalia.

Asshole snorted. "Delko's still alive, isn't he?"

"And the other guy?"

"Remember how she said that 'Douche-Lord' was the fed? The fed was the other guy."

"...did she kill him?" Ryan asked quietly, fear shooting back through his veins.

The male arson investigator frowned and took a minute to think over his response. "No. He took the voyage into the dark cave and fucked everything up more than it already was."

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><p>The next hour was a quiet one for the original trio. No arguments, no death threats, no shin kicking. Natalia had managed to doze off, and Ryan had begun to read-over the conference itinerary. Asshole was staring at the empty seat across from him. His eyes only flicked up whenever the door to their railcar opened.<p>

At the sound of the door opening, his green eyes left the empty space. He then let out a heavy sigh and shifted uncomfortably in his seat. For half a second he thought about warning the other two, but decided against it.

Renae calmly walked towards them and stood before their seats. "Okay. Who took it?"

Ryan nearly jumped out of his seat and Natalia was jarred awake.

"Who took what?" Asshole asked. His voice was calm. Better to not poke the animal more than it already had been.

"My watch. It's missing." Renae lacked anger in her voice, much to Ryan and Natalia's relief.

"You were wearing it when you left." Asshole eyed the aisle.

Natalia let herself look up at Renae. Her face portrayed no anger, no pain, no emotion. It was as if nothing had happened. "Did anybody bump into you?"

The redhead made a face. "No, but I had to shove my way into the other car, as there was a line up for the bathroom."

"How much did your watch cost?" Ryan said quietly, not daring to face the woman.

"A lot."

The four turned to look at the man in the Armani suit. He had his hand on the thigh of the woman in the pencil skirt.

"Gross," said Renae.

"What? Public displays of affection or creepy-man-young-woman?" Natalia asked.

"Both."

Renae sank back into her seat. "I don't recall what they looked like; the people blocking the aisle."

"Well, it must be someone near the bathroom," whispered Natalia.

They all looked to the back of the railcar.

"Not necessarily," said Renae. "People move seats. The seats we were in before were taken up when I went back through. I had to go back three cars to find somewhere to sit. The lady across the aisle from me was asking her friend if he had seen her bracelet. That's what made me notice that my watch was missing."

Ryan furrowed his brows. "How the hell does someone take off your watch without you noticing them?"

"Oh! I saw it on one of those test-your-brain shows!" Natalia sat up in her seat. "They had the guy go up and start a conversation with someone, and while they were talking he'd make distractions. He stole the guy's wallet, watch and scarf and the guy never even noticed."

Asshole looked up at Renae. "Did anybody try to distract you?"

"No, but I wasn't exactly thinking with a clear head because some excruciatingly annoying pain-in-the-ass nosy dickhead doesn't understand what 'it's none of your fucking business' means."

Ryan looked out the window as the other three glared at him.

"So we have a thief who takes small valuables without anybody noticing." Asshole looked back across the aisle, making a sound of disgust as the Armani-suited man nuzzled the neck of his female companion.

Renae echoed Asshole's reaction, but took it one step further. "IF YOU LIKE HER THAT MUCH, TAKE HER TO THE BATHROOM!"

Astonished at Renae's interruption, the man straightened his tie, and then his jacket, and then his papers. The woman rolled her eyes, stood from her seat, grabbed his hand and yanked him out of his own seat. She then dragged him down the aisle towards the bathroom.

"The look of sheer disgust on your face amuses me." Asshole smiled as Renae watched in horror as the woman pushed Mr. Armani into the small commode.

"I-I was kidding about the bathroom thing. That's just...that's just..." The redhead shook her head.

Ryan raised a brow. "What? You've never got it on in a strange place?"

"Public bathrooms are just a no-no."

"And here I thought you shared a romantic history with Eric Delko."

Natalia gave Ryan a kick to the kneecap with her running shoe. "Ryan!"

"Poker tables, showers, cars, the kitchen floor, you name it." Renae shuddered. "But you will never catch me with my pants down and legs open in a public bathroom."

Ryan shrugged. "Guess that means you'll never join the Mile High Club, eh?"

"Oh, and you have?" The female CSI smirked.

Her male counterpart stammered. "Who says I haven't?"

"You would've told Eric, and he would've told everyone." Natalia chuckled to herself. "Besides, you don't like making a fool of yourself in public. So the woman you did it with would have to be either really crazy or extremely attractive to get you into the bathroom on the plane."

"What about both?" Ryan smiled.

"Keep dreaming," said the other three.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry if this chapter is a little boring. Had to move the "case" forward at some point! Hopefully there's enough personal moments in there to make up for all the dialogue :)** **(this would have been completed and posted last night, but I'm pretty sure Microsoft Word is out to get me).**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Five<span>

"We've been on the train for just over two hours, and three valuables are missing." Natalia peered over at the other passengers. "This is getting kind of serious, guys. What should we do?"

"Who has the most seniority here?" asked Ryan.

Natalia looked to Ryan, Ryan looked to Asshole, and Asshole looked to Renae.

"Lieutenant Richardson." Asshole cleared his throat. "I believe that would be you."

Renae squirmed in her seat. "Sergeant..."

"You got demoted?" he laughed. "When and why? We had a bet going on this."

"A few months ago. I asked to get demoted."

The smile faded from Asshole's face. "Why the hell would you do that?"

He received one of her none-of-your-fucking-business looks and zipped his mouth shut.

"Okay then, _Sergeant_," Ryan enunciated. "What should we do?"

Renae let out a sigh. "We should go ask if anybody has seen Natalia's iPod or my watch. That way we don't just go around asking people if they're missing stuff; they'll tell us because we're missing stuff too."

"Sounds like a plan." Ryan threw the itinerary back into his bag. "Now, which one of us is going to make sure we don't lose our seats?"

They glared at him.

"I think you deserve a timeout." Natalia patted Ryan on the knee and rose from her seat. "I'll check out the two cars in front of us."

Asshole stood up and stretched. "Guess that means you and me will head to the opposite end of the train together, Renae."

She let out a huff and pushed herself to her feet. "Grand."

* * *

><p>Natalia quietly stepped into the next railcar and scanned the seating arrangement. Nearly every seat was occupied by someone in business attire or other tasteful clothing. Some of the passengers were fellow attendees who had been in their airport group. The CSI made her way towards them, and knelt down next to their seats so she wouldn't obstruct the aisle.<p>

"Hey guys," she whispered.

The three fellow attendees consisted of two men and a woman. Both men had glasses perched on their noses and laptops carefully placed on their knees. The woman had a blanket covering her legs and a neck-pillow.

"Natalia, right?" The woman smiled.

"Yes, from the airport." Natalia smiled back. "I was just wondering if you guys have seen a pink iPod Nano anywhere. I can't find it, and I wonder if I dropped it and somebody picked it up and took it."

One of the two men shook his balding head. "Sorry, can't say I have. But there's a geriatric lady at the front who was consistently insisting that her diamond-encrusted brooch had been removed from her petticoat."

Natalia, the woman and the other man all stared at him.

"Dude, you just said _petticoat_," the other man snorted.

Thanking them, Natalia stood and looked for the "geriatric lady". The older woman sat three rows from the front and had what looked like a mink wrapped around her neck. Natalia walked over to the woman while taking mental snapshots of the other passengers.

She reached the lady with the mink, and said quietly, "Excuse me? I couldn't happen but notice the fur around your neck. Is it rabbit or mink?"

The woman gave lipstick-lined denture smile. "Thank you, and it's mink. It was an anniversary gift from my husband. We've been together for fifty years, you know."

"Wow, that's a long time." Natalia tried to smile back, but the lady's perfume was clogging her sinuses.

"Are you married?"

"I used to be."

The woman's smile faded slightly. "Is there anything else I can help you with, dear?"

"Oh, well, my friends mentioned that you said your brooch went missing?"

"Oh, yes!" She then turned to the twenty-something woman that sat to her left. "See! _Somebody_ cares that my brooch is missing!"

She received an eyeroll in response. Natalia herself was trying to understand why someone would wear a diamond brooch and a mink on a train ride. And god, the perfume.

"You see, I'm kind of a detective." said Natalia. "I was just wondering if you think somebody stole it. Did anybody bump into you at all?"

The perfumed lady closed her eyes, nodded for a millennium, and then parted her lips. "Yes. When I was on my way back from the back of this rail car. There were children at the back and they were making a ruckus, so I went back to tell their mother that she was a terrible parent and that she should move to a different car. I brushed past a few people who were trying to find seats. I couldn't understand why they insisted on walking to the front of the car. You can clearly see from the door that there are no available seats. And good riddance, the woman and her hoard of disrespectful children left soon after. I almost considered asking someone to remove them."

Natalia had spaced out after the word "yes". She quickly thanked the woman for her time, and informed her that she'd be looking into the disappearance of the brooch with her detective friends. Sighing to herself, she stepped up to the next door and slid it open.

* * *

><p>Renae and Asshole had quickly shuffled their way past the moan-emitting bathroom and into the next railcar before determining a plan of action. Asshole would venture to the back of the train and work his way up, and Renae would start in the current car and work her way back. They would meet in the middle.<p>

When they had reunited finally, the pair had five more missing valuables to add to the list of stolen items. Asshole pulled Renae aside at the back of the railcar to converse.

"Four hundred dollars missing from a wallet, a Gucci belt buckle, and an engagement ring. The bride-to-be is flipping out because she was going to pawn it. Guess her sister is screwing her fiancé."

Renae crossed her arms and leaned against the back of the cabin. "Oh, I can feel the empathy seeping from your voice."

Asshole shrugged. "Bitch shouldn't be getting married in the first place. Marriage is like admitting yourself to prison."

That was one thing the two could agree on.

"Anything missing or stolen on your half?"

"Well," Renae let out a breath. "We got another iPod and the bracelet I mentioned before. Guess how much the bracelet cost."

"Five hundred?"

"Try more-than-your-rent."

Asshole gave a disgusted grunt. "Why the hell do people take expensive shit on public transportation?"

"Beats me."

He turned to say something else to her, but stopped as he noticed that her eyes were focused on the passing scenery. Snow covered trees didn't exactly excite Asshole, but then again, he wasn't exactly the guy that ran around taking pictures of nature. He felt somewhat guilty for letting Ryan be an ass; Renae usually defended herself to the point of beating the shit out of people. It perplexed him that she had run off instead of strangling Ryan on the spot. She usually only ran away from problems that dealt with the men in her life.

"Are you alright?"

Her green-blue eyes moved to his face. She shrugged.

"You ran. You don't usually run unless a guy tells you you're pretty."

Renae gave an eyeroll. "I'm fine."

"You have five thousand definitions for 'fine'." Asshole shook his head. "I'm just wondering if this has anything to do with Douche-Lord."

"Everyone makes me sound like some wild animal on the Discovery Channel." She ignored him. "You always get told the story of how they have to shoot leopards because they're killing farmer's livestock, but they don't say that she's trying to feed her starving cubs."

Jackpot. So Douche-Lord wasn't the problem; it was people's perception of her in general. Renae wasn't exactly one to directly express her feelings. When she did, it was usually in small verbal cues or sentences that one would not understand unless they "knew" her. There were maybe five people who "knew" her. Everyone else just assumed she was the heartless livestock killer on the Discovery Channel.

"I told him you have feelings." He wanted to rest a hand on her shoulder, but he figured that there were still live wires beneath her flesh.

She shook her head and slid away from the wall. "Like that'll help."

* * *

><p>Ryan had his legs strewn over Asshole's seat, his head resting on his armrest, and his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were closed, but Natalia was sure that he wasn't actually sleeping. She'd been watching him for twenty minutes and his arms had yet to go limp.<p>

Asshole had a scowl plastered on his face the second he and Renae stepped onto the railcar. "Get your feet off of my chair!" he hollered before he had even reached their seating area.

The male CSI cringed and slid his legs onto the floor before straightening himself. "You weren't using it!"

"Doesn't matter! Your shoes were dirty!" Asshole brushed off the seat.

Natalia looked to Renae as the redhead slid into her own seat. "Did you guys find anymore items to add to the list?"

"Five more," she said, and then sniffed the air. "What is that god-awful smell?"

"Old lady perfume. She claimed that her diamond brooch was stolen, while wrapping a mink tighter around her neck." Natalia smiled in disbelief as she rubbed her forehead.

"A diamond brooch and a mink?" Ryan gave a laugh.

"Don't worry; we've got an engagement ring and a bracelet that would cost me nine-months rent." The male arson investigator stretched his arms and cracked his knuckles.

"Don't forget an Armani suit," said Renae.

The four all turned to see the Armani man back across the aisle. His female companion was missing in action.

"Wow." Asshole smirked. "He must have sucked really, really bad for her not to come back."

Ryan sighed. "Wouldn't know the feeling."

"_RYAN!" _Natalia reached over and smacked him upside the head.

"Just saying..."


	6. Chapter 6

**Bah, more filler. Oh well. At least it's humorous. As for the mentioning of ferry food, I do not lie. I live on an island (A big one. I live below the 49th parallel, so right next to Washington...but still Canada. Vancouver Island. Anyway, we have to take the ferry to the mainland. Nobody told me to not eat the breakfast on the ferry. Forever traumatized by the eating experience.**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Six<span>

It was nearly six o'clock, and the team of investigators sat contemplating what possible motive this person—or persons, had for stealing small valuables. Strapped for cash was the choice motive for Ryan. Natalia believed that there had to be a specific reason for the culprit to steal these items; there were many laptops and tablets and other electronics that cost more than the iPods and the cash that had been taken out of the one man's wallet. Renae figured the person was a professional since they were particularly skilled at causing diversions and slipping items off of people's bodies. Asshole just didn't give a fuck. He was "an arson investigator, not a fucking cop".

At five to six, Asshole's watch beeped. The two CSIs looked at him expectantly, while Renae glanced to where her own watch had clung to her skin. She let out a sigh and rubbed her bare wrist.

"What's the beep for?" Ryan wanted to know.

"Dinner time." Asshole then looked to Renae. "You've been on a train before, right? What kind of food do they have in the cafeteria-thing?"

"What kind do you think?" She snorted. "I didn't exactly see a kitchen on our travels. Did you?"

He made a face, as did Ryan and Natalia.

Renae rolled her eyes and stood from her seat. "It's better than ferry food. That shit's the worst."

"Where the hell did you go on a ferry?" asked Ryan.

"New York, dumbass. Where do you think?"

The other three then rose, and began to follow Renae down the aisle.

She turned on her heel, nearly causing Asshole to crash into her. "Who's going to watch our seats?"

Natalia and Ryan looked to Asshole.

"No, he has to come. He needs food."

Asshole clicked his tongue and shot the two a smile. "Medical needs, you know."

Ryan crossed his arms and turned to Natalia. "So, what do you want from the cafeteria?"

"Oh no, no. No, no, no. I am not letting _you_ pick out my food."

He feigned hurt. "What? You don't trust me? We've worked together for six years and you don't _trust me_?"

"You eat peanut butter sandwiches with pickles on them," said Natalia. "Of course I don't trust you with my food!"

Ryan shrugged. "Whatever. I'll get my food, and when I get back you can get your own food." He then bolted down the aisle after Asshole and Renae before Natalia could say anything.

* * *

><p>The CSI and the two arson investigators stood overlooking the food, neither of the three wanting to be the first one to reach for a ladle or fork. The menu consisted of a salad and something that could possibly be chicken, among other unappetizing looking entrees.<p>

Renae closed her eyes and shook her head. "Chicken fingers. I want chicken fingers. Nobody can fuck up chicken fingers."

The two men looked to the tub that held the chicken fingers.

"Buttercup," said Asshole. "I'm sorry to tell you this, but they fucked up chicken fingers."

There was a brief moment of silence while their eyes lingered on the food choices.

"_BUTTERCUP?_"

Asshole recoiled and pulled Ryan in front of him, using the CSI as a shield. Renae placed her hands on her hips and stared at the two, murder in her eyes.

"Buttercup," she repeated.

Asshole smiled. "Buttercup."

"Buttercup's a bit outdated, don't you think?" Ryan crossed his arms, the other man's hands still clenching the back of his jacket. "Try Babe, or Honey, or even Muffin. Not Buttercup."

Asshole released him, shook his head, and grabbed a plate from the food counter. "This is exactly why you don't have a girlfriend, Wolfe."

The CSI scowled and grabbed a plate of his own. He followed after Asshole, piling on food that barely looked edible before handing the smiling food attendee his credit card. The smile lacked teeth. Lots of teeth. Ryan figured there were more missing than what remained.

After paying, Ryan stopped and looked at the meal he had created. He then looked to Asshole's.

"Healthy," he said.

Asshole's plate had salad, "chicken", a small bowl of soup and other vegetables. Ryan's held macaroni, tater tots, crackers, and a mushy pastry-and-meat concoction that could have been potpie. What type of meat was in it, God only knew.

Renae still stood in the aisle, looking bleakly at the choices before her. "Maybe I'll just not eat."

"You have to eat, Renae," said Asshole. "The food will only be out for another three hours."

"I think it's already been sitting here for three hours. Look at it."

He rolled his eyes and handed his plate to Ryan. He then picked up another plate and placed on it a small scoop of roasted potatoes, one chicken strip, a packet of crackers, and what was either a brownie or a piece of cake. Asshole topped it off with a small bowl of green Jell-O.

"I'll let you have some of my chicken if it's edible," he said.

Renae hesitated before taking the plate he had shoved at her. "I'd like you to know that my friend Jess knows where I keep my will, in case I die from food poisoning."

* * *

><p>Natalia eyed the plates that her three companions held as they returned to their seats. She went from hungry to disgusted in half a second.<p>

"Is that _chicken_?" She pointed to Asshole's plate.

"Hopefully." Asshole poked it with his fork. "Better be. I paid nearly twenty five bucks for all this shit."

"Mine was only twenty," Ryan piped in.

"That's because you got the shit food, and I got the healthier food. They always charge the healthy eaters more because more time is put into preparing the food. Don't you ever wonder why you can get a burger at McDonald's for under two bucks?"

"I want a burger." Renae stared at her plate, fork in hand but nowhere near the plate.

Natalia's stomach grumbled. "Maybe I'll just wait for you guys to try it before getting a plate. Someone has to inform friends and family of your unfortunate and untimely deaths."

"Renae can't die," Asshole said before shoving a piece of "chicken" into his mouth.

Confused, Natalia and Ryan looked to Renae. She was focused on what lay on her plate, not paying any attention to her surroundings.

Asshole then shoved his plate at Ryan. "Hold that for a second while I grab my meds, and then I'll explain."

The two CSIs watched as he pulled a pill bottle out of his backpack, retrieved two pills, and tossed them into his mouth before grabbing his plate back and taking another bite of his food. Neither were quite sure what he meant by Renae not being able to die, and waiting for Asshole to chew his food seemed like an eternity.

Asshole finished chewing and then swallowed. He then began to push the salad around with his fork. "Anyway, yeah. Renae can't die."

Ryan gave a skeptical laugh. "What, she invincible or something?"

"Definitely not invincible," said Asshole. "She's just survived numerous near-death experiences. Right, Renae?"

"Huh?" Renae finally looked up from her plate.

"How many times have you been shot?" Asshole asked.

"Five. Right shoulder, right knee; a graze to the abdomen and a graze to the other shoulder. And then a through-and-through in the abdomen." She suddenly stabbed her fork into the Jell-O. "Only the last one was really serious. Lost a lot of blood. _A lot_."

"I got shot once," Ryan said through a mouthful of macaroni. "With a nail gun. In the eye."

Natalia rolled her eyes. "He gets injured on the job once, and we never hear the end of it."

He shrugged. "Just saying."

"I think you've said enough for today." Natalia closed her eyes and squeezed the bridge of her nose.

"Continuing on," Asshole interrupted. "She's also survived a bunch of other shit that she shouldn't have survived."

"Like what?" asked Ryan.

They all turned to Renae.

"My Jell-O is hard," she barely whispered.

"Eat the cake-brownie-thing then." Asshole pointed to her plate with his fork.

"It's mushy."

"Whatever. Starve then."

Ryan leaned forward, not wanting to get off topic. "So, what other kind of things have you survived?"

The female arson investigator's eyes met his.

He felt his stomach drop. "Are you going to tell me that it's none of my business again?"

"I'm considering it," Renae said, and then nodded. "Yeah, it's none of your fucking business. Asshole here just wants to tell you the story of how he saved my life."

Both Natalia and Ryan turned to Asshole, who was munching on his sad-looking salad.

"You never mentioned that you saved her life," said Natalia, ignoring the sounds her stomach was emitting.

Asshole gave a shrug. "Didn't think it was important."

"Bullshit," Renae muttered under her breath.

"Do you honestly think I go around boasting about how I saved Renae-the-Damned's life to everyone?" Asshole's grip tightened on his fork. "Eat your fucking cake and shut up."

"Do you think I go around talking about my near-death experiences?" Renae snapped back. "No, didn't fucking think so."

Ryan and Natalia looked at each other, the same thought crossing both of their minds. _Here we go again._


	7. Chapter 7

**Long chapter is long.** **Also, notifications aren't working properly. I got the notifications for chapters 3 and 4 days after I posted them. Not impressed. Anywho. Nothing -too- exciting in this chapter until the end. Just more information in general. Also, I apologize in advance if you're really itchy and/or grossed out after reading this chapter. -Babs**

* * *

><p><span>Chapter Seven<span>

Natalia scanned over the notes on her laptop as the train fell into silence. She was going to be giving a presentation on collecting DNA from sweat left behind by perpetrators at crime scenes. It wasn't the first time she had spoken at an event, but the thought of standing in front of thousands of people still gave her the jitters. She had to be sure that every sentence that left her mouth was precise and understandable. Getting the facts right wasn't the problem; tripping over her own words was higher up on the worry chart.

"Ryan?" She sighed and leaned her head back against the seat.

"Yeah?" He was engulfed in a game of some sorts on his own laptop.

"When we get to Fargo, can I practice my presentation with you?"

He smirked. "What, nervous?"

"Well, yeah. Who wouldn't be?"

"_I_ wouldn't be." Ryan looked up from his screen.

Natalia met his eyes. "Only because we'd never convince you to get up on stage in the first place."

"Exactly."

The female CSI glanced over at the woman beside her. Neither arson investigator had spoken since sharing a few insulting words that had gained the attention of other passengers. Asshole was nose-deep in a novel, and like Natalia and Ryan, Renae had a laptop resting on her knees.

"So, Renae, are you presenting?"Natalia asked.

Renae twitched in annoyance from being disturbed. "Yes."

"Oh, me too. I'm doing DNA collection techniques for sweat at crime scenes. What are you doing?"

The woman took in an irritated breath. "How to distinguish between explosive damage and fire damage."

"What made you decide to do that?"

Asshole looked up at Natalia and shook his head "no". Taking the hint, she went quiet and turned back to her own laptop.

Renae looked between the two and rose her palms up in the air. "What the hell was that look for?"

"Well, I figured you didn't want to talk about it..." Asshole attempted to avoid her icy stare.

She crossed her arms over her chest. "You _assumed._ _Ass_-umed."

Ryan let out a snicker and Asshole elbowed him.

"Anyway, Natalia," said Renae, closing her laptop and shifting in her seat to face the female CSI. "Do you remember what happened in Mesa, Arizona four years ago?"

Natalia drew a blank and shook her head. "Not rea—"

"Oh! Wasn't there an explosion or something?" Ryan cut in. He looked to Asshole. "Wasn't that where Lieutenant Laterfield got injured, and then we had to deal with you pretending to be the boss for almost an entire year?"

Lieutenant Charles Laterfield, referred to as "Chuck" by his team, was the Arson Unit team leader and had been for the past twenty years. He was best friends with one of the fire chiefs, although most days they seemed to carry a rivalry. Chuck was a father-figure to his entire team, and his wife Lesley played the part of "mom", bringing in treats and inviting them all for dinner a few times a year. Asshole's daughter Grace referred to them as her grandparents, proving just how strong the bond was between the Laterfield's and the team.

"He almost died, and you're talking about how annoying it was to have me play Arson-Boss?" If Asshole had been a dog, his hackles would have risen. "Do you know how fucking difficult it was to play boss without any training? Why the hell do you think I'm going to all these conventions and conferences and seminars? You're such a selfish dick."

Ryan slightly cowered in guilt and looked out the window. "Sorry."

Renae herself looked like she was once-again ready to strangle the male CSI. However, she calmly let out a breath and continued. "There was an explosion and thirteen people died. Seventeen survived, including Chuck. There were arson specialists from all over the country on that scene. A school had burst into flames three days prior; witnesses reported an explosion, and we found evidence of one. But no one could recall what came first—the fire or the explosion.

"The people on scene were firefighters, police officers, arson investigators, and CSIs like the two of you. We found out afterwards that the school janitor had been stockpiling propane tanks in the boiler room. Lots of propane tanks. Lord knows why. We never found out what had caused the initial explosion, but the propane tanks sat sequestered in the heat of the burned building. Eventually, boom."

Natalia and Ryan were silent, watching Renae intently. She shuddered as if to shake the thought from her head.

"Did you know any of the people who died?" Natalia asked quietly.

"Yeah," Renae let out a sigh. "Out of those thirteen that died, five were arson investigators or fire marshals; I only personally knew two of them, although I had heard of the others. Juan Morena and Thomas Androsoff. Juan was five months from retiring. Thomas was a thirty-something Australian who was good at sniffing out the difference between accelerants."

"Wow. I'm sorry for your loss," said Natalia, before looking to Asshole. "For both of you."

Asshole shrugged. "Chuck's alive. Really no need to give us your apologies."

Renae shook out her shoulders and leaned her head against the back of the seat. "Anyway. How did you get sucked into going to the conference? Let me guess, spa package, private room?"

Natalia felt her heart drop and her eyes go wide. "What are you saying? That they lied to me?"

"Mhm. The hotel doesn't even have a spa. I guess it's better to have your bubble burst before you get there." The female arson investigator gave what _could_ have been a sympathetic smile.

Ryan stifled a laugh. "Wow. That's unfortunate."

His female counterpart slid further down in her seat. "Please tell me that I at least get a _nice_ room."

Renae's face turned serious. "Oh my god. You guys aren't actually staying at The Shack, are you?"

The other three all eyed her with anxiety. The rooms had supposedly been booked by someone high up in the MDPD, and the trio had been told that all they had to do was give their name to the check-in desk and they would be led to their rooms. They hadn't a clue how many rooms had been booked, or what kind of rooms had been booked.

"Well, they booked us rooms, so at least we'll have a room...right?" Natalia looked hopeful.

The redhead failed at holding back a smirk. "Nat, The Shack doesn't take reservations. Even if they say they do. You'll be lucky if you even get separate rooms."

Asshole's face reappeared from behind his book. "So, where are _you_ staying, Renae? At a Hilton or something?"

"Nah. Staying at 'La Quinta'. The rooms in the Hilton are ugly as fuck. But not as ugly as The Shack. Hilton doesn't have bedbugs."

Natalia began to consider sleeping in the lobby. But what if the couches in the lobby had bedbugs? Did bedbugs only live in beds? Or did they live in couch cushions as well? And what if she had to share a room with Ryan? She didn't know what was worse: Bedbugs, or sharing a room with Ryan. _Oh Gosh_, her eyes went wide. What if she had to share a room with Ryan _and _Asshole?

"Natalia," said Ryan. "You look pale."

"Bedbugs," she barely whispered.

Asshole's face didn't look any more colourful than Natalia's. He swallowed back disgust before speaking. "Bedbugs can't be that bad. Right?"

"Guys, I saw it on Dr. Oz." Ryan sat forward. "They drink your blood like mosquitoes do. They bite your face, neck, hands and arms. You can get skin rashes, and there have been cases of psychological effects. Oh, and they can live in places other than beds, like pet beds and couch cushions."

Natalia bolted out of her seat, down the aisle, and into the bathroom.

Asshole gagged. "I take back my previous testosterone-fueled statement."

Renae appeared to be the only one not disturbed by the bedbug information. "I'd rather a bedbug than a million baby spiders. Also, you watch Dr. Oz?"

The male CSI made a face. "Yeah, so what?"

"You don't look like the kind of guy that watches that shit."

"It's not shit. He gives health tips and stuff. Stuff you can use in real life. Hell, you don't look like it, but I bet you watch Grey's Anatomy."

Asshole snorted. "She does. She totally does. I've caught her in the act."

She slammed her foot into his kneecap. "_UNDERWOOD!_"

Asshole drew his legs away from hers and then nudged Ryan with his elbow. "You know she means business when she uses my last name."

* * *

><p>Natalia had thought the bedbugs were a disgusting topic. Then she had seen the bathroom. Four and a half hours, and it looked like a construction site outhouse. She covered her mouth and leaned against the counter, as far away from the toilet as possible. Sure, she dealt with dead bodies on a daily business, most of which smelled grosser than field of manure. But dead bodies didn't crawl all over your skin, into your luggage and your clothing, and bite you all over the place and make you itchy. Just thinking about it made her itchy.<p>

Taking a breath, she turned around to face the toilet. Her stomach quivered. She wasn't sure if it was because of the bedbugs or the food from earlier. As Natalia grasped the counter behind her, her eyes caught notice of a gleaming item in behind the toilet. Moving closer, she leaned over the toilet to get a better look, trying to not get too close to the smelly bowl.

Near the back wall, sat a diamond ring. _No way_, she thought before carefully reaching for it. Ring grasped in her fingers, she stepped back from the toilet and inspected the small item. Three diamonds set on what looked like gold. Neither Asshole nor Renae had described the missing engagement ring, but what were the chances of someone just dropping one when one happened to be missing?

Natalia quickly made her way back to where they were clustered together.

"Guys! Look what I found behind the toilet!" She hissed, presenting them the ring.

Renae made a face. "You reached behind the toilet? That's fucking gross."

Asshole rolled his eyes and took the ring from Natalia. "Looks like the one that the woman described. But she said she hadn't left her railcar."

"People lie, Asshole." Ryan said, snatching the ring from the other man's hand. "But if she's telling the truth, why would the culprit drop it or leave it behind?"

Renae suddenly stood from her seat. She reefed the ring out of Ryan's grasp, stuck it on her right middle finger. "Do you guys think the window is straight-up glass?"

Ryan shrugged. "Could be plexiglass for all we know. Why? You think the diamonds are fake?"

"It would make sense," said Natalia. "It would explain why the thief left it behind."

"But what about the band itself?" Asshole asked. "Wouldn't it be worth something?"

"Does anyone have a magnet? Or nitric acid?" Renae slid the ring off of her finger.

"Buttercup, that's a redundant question." Asshole raised a brow. "We just flew from Miami to Chicago. I doubt you're allowed to bring nitric acid on a plane."

"You call me Buttercup one more time, and this ring will be shoved down your throat. And it'll be ironic, because you always say marriage is like signing a death contract."

Ryan dug through his duffel bag and pulled out a fridge magnet.

"You got a magnet from the Chicago airport?" Natalia made a face. "I think you need to go on vacation more often."

Renae took the magnet from Ryan and held it to the ring. "Slight magnetic pull. The gold isn't gold either. This ring's an all around dud. At least we saved her a trip to the pawn shop. Good thing she already got rid of the fiancé."

They all stared at the ring in Renae's hand as she seated herself.

"You could still get some money for the ring, depending on the pawnshop." Asshole carefully took the ring from Renae and rolled it between his fingers.

"So this person is really experienced. They know what to look for, and they know the tricks for finding out if it's really worth what it looks like," said Natalia.

Ryan nodded. "My only question is, why would they leave it in this bathroom of all bathrooms?"

The four shifted uncomfortably in their seats. They looked out at the passengers around them.

Natalia whispered, "Do you think it's someone in this car?"

"Either that," said Renae in a low voice. "Or they know we're onto them and are trying to fuck with us."

* * *

><p><strong>Itchy now?<strong>


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